The Storm Runner (The Storm Runner 1)

“She was… killed by a demon runner, and that means—”

“It’s a real place? Where is it? I need to go find her!” I was shouting now.

“You… you can’t go there.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’d have to be dead.”

My anger turned into a terrible heat that raced through my blood like lava.

“We have to get out of here!” Brooks cried. “More demon runners will come and try to—”

“Not without Rosie.”

“She isn’t here, Zane! It was hard enough getting rid of one demon runner. Imagine fighting half a dozen of them.” Brooks grabbed me by the arm, making me look her in the eyes. “Please.”

“What about your big quest?” I said, shrugging her off.

Brooks’s bottom lip trembled. “The prophecy is supposed to come to pass during the eclipse.” Her voice was quiet and small. “We still have a day left to… find the artifact. But right now I have to get you out of here. This isn’t the right time….”

&nbs

p; I heard thunder boom outside. My heart didn’t want me to leave, but my brain knew I had to. If I was going to help Rosie, I needed answers, and they weren’t in the cave. Puke, his stupid artifact, and all his demons could rot for all I cared.

“I won’t forget you, Rosie,” I said into the darkness. “I’ll come for you.”

Back outside, a sudden rain slashed the desert, soaking us in an instant, washing away the slime and soothing my skin. My bum leg was bleeding from the puncture wounds in my calf. My head throbbed, and every inch of me ached.

Brooks could’ve left me behind, but she didn’t. She followed as I stumbled to the bottom of the muddied trail.

I turned my hands over, assessing the poison’s damage. My palms looked and felt like someone had scalded them with hot water.

Brooks rubbed her own hands together in the rain. “When a demon runner is… threatened, they… their skin oozes venom. It’s a defense mechanism.”

“How come it… killed Rosie but not us?”

Brooks didn’t look at me. “Rosie is just a dog.”

“She’s not just a dog!”

“That’s not what I meant,” Brooks said hastily. “I meant… I’m a nawal, a supernatural, so the poison couldn’t kill me. And you’re—” Her voice cut off.

“What?!”

“You’re a supernatural, too.”

“Supernatural?” I echoed in disbelief.

Headlights shone from across the desert. Someone was driving toward us.

“I’ve got to go,” Brooks shouted as the rain subsided.

“First tell me how to get Rosie back!”

Brooks pushed her sopping-wet hair off her face. “I don’t know.” Her voice was wobbly and I thought she might start crying, but no tears came—or maybe the rain hid them. “It’s my fault,” she said. “I thought I could do this. I thought I could make everything better.”

“Better? Make what better?”